The Skeleton Key
by reen212000
Summary: Dr. John Sheppard never thought of himself as special. After being kidnapped by The Trust, he returns to the city of his mother. Atlantis has been waiting for her Chosen to return for ten thousand years. An alternate history.
1. Cúlra

Hello, kids. So here it is my farewell to Stargate Atlantis. Not sure if it's forever or not, but my life has gotten pretty crazy. Sewing my life away for the upcoming Denver Comic Con, not to mention working behind the scenes at DCC. I'm hoping to get close to Karl Urban, at least to say HI! Hi! hi. and not go all fangirl on that scrumptiousness. Anyways… here ya go at looong last. The non-awaited, alternate history for John Sheppard.

oOoOoOo

Chapter One: 38 Years Ago: A Brief History (Cúlra)

_When I first met Patrick Sheppard, he was on the verge of divorce. He was sitting in a beautiful park, looking as though his entire world had been taken from him. He told me once that I was the saddest person he knew, but on that day, I had never seen such sorrow. With the pending divorce, his wife had told him he would never see his son. What a horrible thing for a father to hear! _

_I informed Patrick that he would find the strength and reclaim what was his. I know it was a bold move, but I couldn't see someone suffer like that. But when I saw those blue, blue eyes brightened, I knew I had struck a cord. I never thought I would see him again until a well-meaning friend took me to a party. _

_When I Descended, I never thought I would have friend, much less multiple friends. I never thought I would find love. Then it came in a package in the form of Patrick, and his beautiful little boy, David. While I know I won't be long on this earth, I have decided my time spent here will be the most important. Patrick has asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes. But will the others intervene? _

_**From the journals of Kaylin Sheppard, neé Caoilfhionn, O'Braion Clan. Contributed by Dr. John K. Sheppard; translated by Dr. Daniel Jackson**_

Against his father's wishes, Patrick Sheppard left the family business. The Sheppards started from nothing, and built the most reliable rail shipping network in the states. On a trip across the country, Patrick saw a need. There were people who still lived without proper electricity and he would bring it to them.

Diana Kincaid was a force to be reckoned with; it was one of the reasons he liked her. Smart, very beautiful, and very rich. Without her, Patrick would have never gotten as far as he had in business. There was no doubt Diana had a head for business. In fact, she made a better business partner than a wife.

The Kincaid name went a little further than the Sheppard name in society circles. More doors opened for Patrick and his crazy ideas of powering the outside world. Diana had no use for children. Her main objective was money. Get it, keep it, get more. Their marriage was a business transaction; if Patrick were honest with himself, he'd admit it was a good arrangement. Diana Kincaid was strictly business, born and bred for success. And in two years, they created Sheppard Utilities and Power.

When their company was stable enough for expansion, Patrick negotiated for a family. Much to Diana's disappointment, many of her friends and family agreed it was a good idea, though she still believed a child would be a hindrance.

Patrick's life came to mean something after their son, David, was born. But Diana wanted nothing to do with the child. Little David spent more time in Patrick's office than the nursery, and Patrick wouldn't have it any other way. He raised his son as best he could with a little help from his own mother, and every woman that worked at the office.

Patrick Sheppard had always tried to protect his family; he knew being a father meant protector. He didn't realize he'd have to protect the boy from his own mother.

When he was two, David visited his mother's office. With a bright smile, he walked to her desk with a small box in his hands. "Happy 'versary."

Diana calmly set a gin-filled crystal tumbler on the desk. Opening the box, she fondled the diamond earrings inside. The boy dimpled, raising his arms to be picked up. With a sigh, she obliged him, and marched out of her office.

As soon as they got to Patrick's office, David squirmed out of her arms. "Did it!" he announced.

"Good job, sport," his father said, smiling at Diana.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Thank you for the earrings. They're beautiful." She frowned as she clasped her hands loosely in front of her. "Let's have lunch today. We'll talk."

When Patrick arrived at the restaurant, he saw another man sitting with his wife. Dread curled around his heart; he knew the man was a lawyer.

After two hours of civilized negotiation, Patrick Sheppard found himself homeless. Worse, he would be without his son. Walking around Central Park, he finally sat on a bench. Seemingly hours later, he found his way out of his fugue.

"Have you come back?"

Starting, Patrick turned to the voice. "I guess. Bad day."

The woman next to him smiled sadly. "I know what you mean. Can I help?"

Patrick found himself unable to resist speaking to her. He told her his life story, about his business, about David.

The woman pinned him in place with a furious glare. "You will go back to your wife, and you will demand custody of your son. It doesn't matter the price."

"But she wants most of my business –"

"It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Children are too important to lose over pettiness." She rose, holding out her hand. "You will get your son back." Her green eyes intensified as he took her hand, and the air seemed to stir.

Rising, he looked into her eyes and knew David would be back with him, without a doubt. Nodding, he walked away with renewed purpose. Looking back over his shoulder, he found no one. The woman had disappeared.

oOoOoOo

Nearly a year later, Patrick Sheppard was thirty-four, divorced, and bored.

It was the party of the century: His mother and father's fiftieth anniversary. He hated these kinds of parties; the brown-nosing, ass-kissing, hand out with a fake smile, kind of parties he had attended all his life. Navigating the crowd with a civil, polite smile, Patrick sipped his champagne.

In the center of the ballroom, his parents swayed across the dance floor. The guest list was tip-top; only those who truly mattered were able to attend the anniversary party of the year. If you were invited, you were obligated to attend. Or get blacklisted forever.

Veronica, Lorraine, Jeanette, Margaret, Fiona… They were all present. Stifling a yawn, Patrick made his way to the bar.

"Hey, Mister S," greeted the bartender. "The usual?"

Patrick smiled happily; at least his ex-wife had good sense to hire the kid. Tommy lived down the street, and could make a mean martini despite his only being seventeen. "Yeah, Tommy. The usual."

"At least she kept the bar, right?"

This time Patrick did laugh. He loved this bar; it had been a source of contention between them. He absently smoothed a hand along the dark wood. There was nothing worse than attending a party in your former home. "That she did. Hopefully, I'll get it back soon." Shaking himself out of his misery, Patrick grabbed the martini glass. "How's school?"

Tommy shrugged. "All right, I guess. My dad's pushing for Yale again."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Stanford," the kid said with a smile.

Taking a sip, Patrick returned his smile. Perfectly chilled as always. "Good luck with that. I've known your dad a long time. When he gets his mind set on something…" He shook his head in sympathy. "Scholarship?"

The teenager snorted. "Nah. I think that's why he wants me at Yale. Don't have to have good grades if your daddy–"

"Tom," Patrick chided quietly. "Believe me, I know how you feel. Went to Harvard when I wanted to go to Columbia. Still regret it."

Nodding sagely, Tom reached for the shaker. "I get it Mister S. Need any help at the office?"

"Actually, I do. Got a new Xerox machine. Supposed to change the way we do business, or something like that."

"Isn't that the way it always is? One day, someone is gonna make a super computer the size of a powder room instead of the ballroom." Wistfully, Tommy cleaned a glass. "Can you imagine if they get even smaller? What if you could have one in every room of your house? What if they could connect –"

"Thomas," a stern voice warned. "What have I told you about fraternizing?"

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. Anything else, Mister Sheppard?"

Patrick never wanted to see that gleam die again. The kid was bright, and would go places with that kind of thinking. Sighing, he turned to the voice belonging to his ex-wife. "It's fine, Diana. We're just talking shop."

"Well, do it on your own time. Thomas you've got drinks to pour." Diana walked away with a frown; he always said her face would stay that way if she kept doing that.

"Don't worry about her, Tommy. Keep thinking like that, okay? Smaller computers, and one in every room." Grabbing his second drink, he fled from the bar, leaving a dreamy bartender. _I love it when people start thinking,_ he mused.

"Patrick Sheppard, as I live and breathe," a voice called out to him.

"Hello, Parker," he drawled with a smile he reserved only for her. Suddenly, this party just got interesting. The fiery redhead turned her own high voltage smile up a notch as he came near.

"It's been a long time," she said. With the tilt of her head, she summoned one of the waitstaff, who supplied her with a fresh drink.

"Has it? Seems to me you were the one who left for six months." With a rakish smile, he directed her to a table. "Who was it this time? Mario? Gregorio?"

Parker Finley's laughter warmed his heart. "It was Paolo. And the South of France was lovely." Her smile dimmed slightly. "Incoming."

Patrick frowned; he didn't have to turn around to know his ex had re-entered the room. Sudden drop in temperature notwithstanding, he thought savagely. Finishing his drink in one swallow, Patrick leaned over and gave Parker a quick kiss. "See ya around, lover."

"Don't be a stranger." Moving through the crowd with purpose, Patrick made for his favorite terrace.

oOoOoOo

The eastern terrace wasn't the best place in February. But any place was worth being away from Diana. Loosing his tie, Patrick took a deep cleansing breath, scrubbed his hands over his face. Tonight wasn't the time to pick up old arguments; he just wasn't up to it.

"It can't possibly be that bad," a quiet voice commented.

Patrick started, spinning around to a shadowy corner of the terrace. "Who's there?"

A woman wandered out of the shadows holding two martinis. Smiling coyly, she handed him one glass. "It's just me. I saw you earlier, and you looked like you could use another."

Chuckling, Patrick took a sip. "Well, Just Me, you're an angel." Observing the new stranger over the rim of his glass, he saw a tall but thin woman with dreamy green eyes. Patrick nearly laughed at the amount of hairspray keeping a tight reign on her short hair. The green taffeta dress she wore enhanced her pale skin. "Don't I know you?"

She turned her thoughtful gaze on him, rendering him speechless. Those eyes were old; this woman was wizened beyond her years. "Not officially. I heard you have full custody of your son."

Patrick looked away, afraid he had seen too much. Taking a deep breath, he turned back, thrusting out his hand. "Patrick Sheppard."

Smiling, she grasped his hand awkwardly, her long, thin fingers wrapping around his large hand. "Caoilfhionn O'Braion." Clearing her throat, she amended, "Kay Breen."

Letting his brow arch, Patrick chuckled. He knew a little about Gaelic names. "Well my sorrowful and fair one, shall we return to the party?"

oOoOoOo

TBC


	2. Sìnteag

Sìnteag

Almost two years later, Patrick Sheppard found himself at the altar again. He paced the balcony of the church waiting for his cue.

"Dad? Are you nervous?" David asked, fidgeting with his tie again.

"A little, kiddo," Patrick smiled.

The day he met Kay changed his life. He got David back, at the price of one-third of Sheppard Utilities. She had been right, of course. Nothing else mattered.

Their courtship had been swift; he had never met someone who fit so completely into his life. Like he had been missing something until she held out her hand. Everything fell into place. Kay was reluctant to let Patrick woo her, in fact it took her some time to respond to him his advances; it took the better part of a month just to get her to agree to dinner.

The object of his affection seemed surprised every time he brought her flowers, took her on long horseback rides, or just made her laugh. Patrick would do anything to rid the sorrow from her eyes. It was as if she felt she didn't deserve happiness.

But Kay loved David. Her whole manner would change when he entered the room. They spoke for hours; Patrick thought his four-year-old son had logged more hours with his potential girlfriend than he himself.

Looking down at David, Patrick knew he'd made the right choice. "I have a surprise for you," he said, resisting the urge to muss the boy's hair.

"What?"

"After the wedding, Russell's taking you to the ranch. Your Uncle Jack will be waiting for you."

David laughed. "You got her, didn't you?"

Rounding his eyes innocently, Patrick grinned. "I guess you'll have to find out later." He never thought there would be a day he would own horses. The bay he bought for his son was beautiful and mild-tempered.

The music started, and David froze. Frantically, he patted his pocket. With a sigh of relief, he held the small box in his hand. "I'm ready, Dad."

"Me too, son. Me too."

In the blink of an eye, Patrick Sheppard completed his family. He could recall only two moments in his life that made him happier: The day David came into his life, and the first day he brought power to a small town in middle America.

"Do you think it would be okay if I call Kay Mom?"

"She would absolutely love that."

_oOoOoOo_

_Almost exactly three years later, my John Kieran came into this world, so quiet, so solemn. I took the liberty of naming the child, though Patrick didn't seem to mind. Eion Ciaràn Sheppard, Clan O'Braion is his formal name. Not the most prestigious, but I have a feeling he will find his way._

_He is so amazing! As a Descended One, there should have been no way for us to conceive a child. At least, that is what They had said. But on that fateful day, Gallia and Cillian – of all people – appeared in my room. I was so very afraid they came to take my child that I nearly missed Cillian's cheerful smile. The Dagda finally laughed! He even bestowed a blessing of knowledge and prosperity as he held our son._

_And dear Gallia. My sister in spirit, and in arms. We fought alongside one another for decades, and perhaps longer; our parents were the oldest of friends. After her Ascension, she became cold and aloof, the exact opposite of her acquired name, Sirona. No matter how much we fought, to see her smiling, to feel her arms around me on this occasion filled me with insurmountable joy. At least until she and Patrick met._

_**Excerpts from the journals of Kaylin Sheppard, neé Caoilfhionn, O'Braion Clan. Contributed by Dr. John K. Sheppard; translated by Dr. Daniel Jackson**_

oOoOoOo

A week later, Patrick paced the waiting room, occasionally glancing down the hall. His wife was having a baby, and he wasn't at her side.

"Dad? I think she'll be all right."

"I know she will, Davey. But I want to be with her." He finally sat down, motioning his son over. Pulling the six-year-old onto his lap, Patrick squeezed his son tightly. "So do you want a brother or a sister?"

"A brother. I think. Girls are always asking questions."

"Just wait 'til you're older, kiddo."

oOoOoOo

"You can see your wife briefly, Mister Sheppard. After that we'll have to talk."

Patrick didn't like the doctor's tone, but the need to see Kay invoked a more powerful emotion. When he entered, two figures flanked her bed. They stared in wonder at the child in Kay's arms, speaking in hushed tones. Patrick was sure they weren't speaking English, as he approached his wife.

"Hello?" he said quietly. The figures glanced up, surprised by his presence. "Who are you?"

Kay smiled happily. "Patrick, this is my… sister Gallia, and brother Cillian."

Gallia inclined her head in greeting. "We are honored to meet you, Patrick."

"Kay's never mentioned other family." He looked at his wife, searching for signs of distress. For the first time in months, she looked genuinely happy.

"We lost touch over the years. But we are quite happy to find Kay again." Cillian's smile was somewhat cold, but his blue eyes were amused.

"Well, I'm glad to meet you. This is my son David."

"Hello," David said quietly. Sidling up to the bed, he peeked at the sleeping baby. "Brother or sister?"

Kay grinned. "I wish for you to meet your brother John Kieran Sheppard."

"Wow! A brother! We can play trains!"

In spite of himself, Patrick laughed. "Well, when he's a little older."

"I hope you don't mind my presumptuousness, darling. The name just came to me."

Patrick kissed the top of John's head, then his wife's head. "I like the name; it sounds regal."

"We will let you rest," Gallia said. "Until soon, my sister."

Watching them leave, Patrick knew they were related to his wife. She had a way of floating instead of walking. As they left, he saw the doctor pacing the corridor. "Honey, I'm gonna talk to the doctor for a minute." Thrusting out her hand, Kay squeezed his arm. "Don't worry. I'll be back."

The doctor gestured towards his office. "Please, have a seat. I'm sorry to pull you away. Your wife had a difficult time at the beginning, but she seems fine now."

"Yes, she's been a little upset lately." Rubbing sweaty palms on his pants, Patrick leaned forward. "What about the baby?"

Frowning, Doctor Halloran laced his fingers on the cluttered desk. "When… John?" He waited for Patrick's nod, then continued. "When John was born, we didn't hear a peep out of him. We feared he would have some brain damage, due to lack of oxygen."

"What?"

Raising a hand, Halloran tried to calm the other man. "I'm not too worried about it now; he seems just fine. I will need to see him again in about a week. For now, I'd like to keep them both overnight for observation."

It was Patrick's turn to frown. "I dunno, Doc. Kay really doesn't like hospitals –"

"Patrick!" Kay's distressed voice cut through the hospital.

Running out of the doctor's office, Patrick raced towards his family. Skidding to a halt, he found his wife clutching the baby against her chest with one hand, and pushing David behind her.

"What's going on here?"

Two frowning nurses faced him. "It is time to take the baby to the nursery," one of them said.

Sighing, Patrick rubbed his temple. "Look, it's been a long day. The baby can stay here for now."

"No. We are leaving now." Kay shoved the baby into his arms, and grabbed her suitcase. "I will get dressed, and we will leave."

"Honey—"

"I'll not argue with you Patrick Milton Sheppard. And I will not have any part of my family taken from me."

He pretended not to feel the heat of her words. The nurses, on the other hand, swiftly left the room.

Kay dressed in record time, ignoring her exhaustion. Cillian had warned this would happen; a child born to an Alterran would be an anomaly. Nevertheless, he was very happy to see John. The child meant hope for her people, and no one would take him away. Exiting the bathroom, she found her men waiting quietly for her.

"Russell's waiting around back. The nurses are trying to find Halloran, so we need–"

Kay couldn't resist kissing him. "I know we haven't time for this. But... thank you."

The Sheppards left the hospital swiftly. Glancing down at the child in his arms, Patrick saw John was awake, gazing back. The dark grey eyes had an intensity that he thought only Kay possessed. _Babies shouldn't be able to see your soul,_ he thought.

As promised, Russell waited with open doors. The family climbed inside; the driver smiled at the intrigues of the wealthy. When they were halfway home, Russell glanced in his rearview mirror. All four Sheppards were huddled in the back seat, asleep.

oOoOo

TBC

Thus ends the beginning of an epic life! There will be more journal excerpts detailing John's childhood, but now, it's time to get this party started! Stay tuned... or not. LOL


	3. A Fuadaíodh

Chapter Three: A Fuadaíodh (Abducted)

oOoOoOo

_John has officially scared the living daylights out of his father. That cursed horse only listens to a five-year-old! Even Cillian was impressed._

_**From the journals of Kaylin Sheppard, neé Caoilfhionn, O'Braion Clan. Contributed by Dr. John K. Sheppard; translated by Dr. Daniel Jackson**_

Patrick looked fondly at a photo of John and a monstrous horse he had named Marker. To this day, he couldn't figure out why his son was the only person who could ride the stallion. David could only get close enough to help John mount and dismount, and some grooming.

The next picture was taken a year before Kay died, a candid moment caught on a summer day at the ranch. Matching aloof expression on mother and son, and a fifteen-year-old David grinning for all he was worth. Patrick was thankful Kay's "siblings" had prepared all of them for the inevitable, yet the thought of her passing still caused heartache.

Kay Sheppard ran a tight ship when she was alive. She had the uncanny ability to be several places at once and know exactly what her boys needed.

Sitting at his desk, Patrick toyed with an old picture of his family. In the picture, Kay hugged both boys, each sharing a laugh while he snapped the shot. She had never let David feel like he wasn't her flesh and blood; Kay had entered the Sheppards' lives seamlessly when he was four and never looked back.

"If you could see your boys now, Wanderer."

A chime roused Patrick from his musings. "Yes, Laura?"

_"It's time for your meeting, Mister Sheppard." _

"On my way."

Entering the large conference room, he glanced toward the end of the long table. The Sheppard boys were leaning over a notebook, sharing a laugh. John often doodled in the margins of his notes, on his desk blotter, on whiteboards... If John had a pen, any surface was in danger.

"Mornin' Dad," David waved.

"Hey, Dad," John smiled. "We've got a lot to cover today."

"Well, boys, let's get started."

oOoOoOo

_Yesterday, the most ridiculous thing happened! A man dressed as a clown tried to take my John Kieran away! At first, I thought it was The Enlightened Ones; I'm sure they will come one day. _

_But no, it was some idiot who was trying to curry favor with Patrick's ex-wife. This (untranslatable) person, a former employee of Kincaid Electric, didn't realize that there were two sons. My little man was very brave! But something strange happened. I heard him call out to me in my mind. No one in my entire clan could interact telepathically. _

_I wonder about what he and Cillian talk about in the garden; I've never seen Cillian smile so much._

_**From the journals of Kaylin Sheppard, neé Caoilfhionn, O'Braion Clan. Contributed by Dr. John K. Sheppard; translated by Dr. Daniel Jackson**_

Dismissing his employees, Patrick glanced around the large conference room, spotting his youngest son seated at the end of the table.

"John?" Sheppard frowned at the distracted man, noting his slightly pale complexion.

"Hey, dad."

"I'm not sure why you bother to write anything down. You remember everything."

The younger Sheppard smiled, amusement lighting his features. "I remember everything because," John responded, closing his notebook. "I write everything down."

Returning the smile, Patrick wondered what his life would be like if he had never met John's mother. "Come on, kiddo. Let's grab some lunch today. Your brother made reservations at Marlowe's."

Shaking his head, John rose and checked his email on his phone. "Thanks anyway. I've got a meeting with my guys in an hour; R and D have something "really cool" to show me, apparently."

Patrick could hear the quotation marks in his son's statement. "Kieran. You can't keep doing this." He stepped in front of the thinner man. "I'm worried about you."

"Dad, I'm fine; just tired." Putting his phone away, John linked arms with his father, walking out of the conference room together. A beep sounded from his jacket pocket. "I'm sure that's Doctor Medina assuring me it'll knock my socks off."

Groaning, Patrick tried to ignore his son's thin wrist. "It's not another plane is it?"

John chuckled, giving Patrick a squeeze. "Better. Well, okay, at least three of the five projects don't fly. This is a power conduit that can power a three-bedroom home for a year."

A low whistle sounded in the corridor. They both turned around, seeing the third Sheppard strolling across the marble. "Sounds like you're trying for a Nobel."

"Hey, Dave," John drawled, greeting his older brother. "I would, but that guy McKay keeps stealing my thunder." Another beep made John break away from his family. "The geeks are restless. I'll see you both later."

Before Patrick could respond, John was gone. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the senior Sheppard turned to David. "See if you can convince him to join us for a meal at some point today." The shrill sound of his own phone echoed in the lobby. "Or at least eat something besides crackers and coffee."

It was David's turn to sigh. "I'll do what I can, dad, but you know how he gets when his mind is on something."

"I know, I know." Glancing at his phone, Patrick frowned. "I need to take this. See you in an hour."

With a lopsided smile, David walked in the direction of his little brother's office. "An hour."

oOoOoOo

Signing off on two of the five projects on his desk, Patrick decided when and how to talk to his youngest son. He couldn't stand to see John burying himself in his work; the kid was always coming up with something new. Granted, his ideas made the company millions, but John had little time for extra curricular activities.

_One day, I'm gonna take away that pen of his,_ he thought.

Suddenly, a concussive sound rocked the building.

"What the –" Rounding the desk, Patrick exited his office into chaos. He snagged the nearest person. "What happened?"

The woman was dressed in a blue lab coat from John's department. "There – there was an explosion! And then there were men in black everywhere. I –"

"Dad! Are you all right?"

Patting the poor shocked woman on the shoulder, Sheppard sent her toward the exit. "I'm fine. We need to find John!"

Father and son fought the flow of escaping people as they descended the stairs. Opening the door on the sixth floor, Patrick had a very bad feeling growing in his gut. Shoving open the fire door, he saw papers drifting everywhere, sparks flying from every direction, and no sign of his son.

"John!" Both Sheppards called, searching frantically.

At the far end of the lab, they saw a man clad in black, waving at them. "Sorry, Mister Sheppard, but we need to borrow your son for a while."

In a bright flash of light, he was gone.

Patrick Sheppard let out a gasp, fumbling for his phone. With trembling fingers, he dialed the one number he never thought he'd use. "Get me General Hammond."

oOoOoOo

Colonel Jack O'Neill was never one to eavesdrop, but today seemed like a good day to start. The general had been volleying between the red phone and the black phone all afternoon, his facial expressions told Jack everything he needed to know.

Glancing down the corridor, the colonel spotted a sergeant carrying a tray. _Opportunity knocks,_ he thought.

"Hey, Walter. Lemme give you a hand."

Eyeing the colonel suspiciously, Walter allowed him to take the tray. "You do know General Hammond isn't going to let you stay in there, right?"

Snorting, Jack opened the door, balancing the tray with one hand. Setting the coffee pot down first, the colonel placed the tray on the desk. He refilled the existing mug, then poured one for himself. With a flourish, Jack removed the silver cover from a plate, exposing a snack for Hammond.

The general frowned, then grunted into the red phone as Jack sat down. Glancing at the hovering sergeant, Hammond shooed him away.

Turning back to Harriman, Jack mouthed 'told you so' with a smirk.

"Yes, Mister President, I – Yessir." Hanging up the phone, the general let out an exasperated sigh. He took a sip of hot coffee before looking at Jack. "I knew you'd find your way in here sooner or later."

"Anytime I can watch you play phone jockey, George..." Setting his mug aside, Jack crossed his legs, getting comfortable. "What's up?"

Letting out another sigh, Hammond leaned back in his chair. "Short story? Thirty-two years ago, a half-Alterran boy was born. Today, someone kidnapped him."

"Excuse me?" Warm brown eyes widened in shock. "You mean to tell me there's been a Skeleton Key wandering around and he hasn't been under our protection? That's –"

Hammond brought up a hand. "I realize how this looks, Jack. However, both his parents were very careful. They wanted him to have a pretty normal childhood."

"Normal? Who is this kid?"

"Patrick Sheppard's son, John, is missing."

Jack leaned forward in a huff. "As in Sheppard Industries? As in Patrick I've-just-invented-sunlight Sheppard?"

The general smiled, amused. "The very same. You know the regulating component on the naquada generators?"

"Yeah, McKay was all hot and bothered over it. Said they would last longer with it."

"It was created by John Sheppard." Hammond opened a file, showing the colonel a picture of the missing man.

"No wonder Rodney McKay was pissed," Jack commented. The Sheppards were a fine looking bunch; rich, successful, smart, and enough clearance to be dangerous. "Any leads?" he asked finally.

"Witnesses said that men in black fatigues suddenly appeared and blew up the place. The diversion was enough to scatter security and take Sheppard."

Rubbing his temple, Jack O'Neill wished he hadn't eavesdropped. "This just gets better and better. Trust?"

Frowning, Hammond rose. "It would seem so."

"So what's with the phone hopscotch?"

Uncharacteristically, the general shoved his hands into his pockets, trying not to look worried. He was quite unsuccessful. "Apparently Russia has been out of contact with the IOA and the Pentagon for the better part of a week."

"And they're just now getting around to telling us?"

Hammond glared at his colonel. "You know as well as I do the reason behind that." Shaking his head, he sat back down. "Something is going on, and we are out of the loop for now."

It was Jack's turn to pace. "What's next?"

"I think we need more intel. Assemble your team. I'll brief you tomorrow morning."

"That long, huh?" Jack went through the roster in his head. Sure enough, his team was scattered all over the galaxy. "All right. It's gonna take some time to gather them anyway."

"Something tells me," the general sighed. "This is just the beginning of a very long fight."

O'Neill gave a sloppy salute as he turned to leave. "And I really hate to see angry Ancients, sir."

OoOoOoO

_Keiran is so quiet these days; it's summer vacation, and he refuses to leave my side. He knows something is going on, and we've decided to tell him everything. _

_I find him with Marker more often than not, 'flying' he says. I swear, that horse acts more like 6ft tall dog than a horse, following my boy around the grounds. No bridle, no reins, no saddle. Sometimes, they're a bit creepy together. _

_Tonight, after dinner, Patrick and I have planned ice cream and a small dose of truth. My boys are too young to be thinking about such matters. _

_**From the journals of Kaylin Sheppard, neé Caoilfhionn, O'Braion Clan. Contributed by Dr. John K. Sheppard; translated by Dr. Daniel Jackson**_

He was flying.

He could tell by the gentle roll of the plane. Then the noise came, aggravating his headache further. Daring to open his eyes, John surveyed his surroundings. At least six men roamed the plane from his vantage point.

"He awake yet?"

"Yeah, I think he's coming around." A tap to his face jarred his aching head more than he cared to admit.

Groaning, John opened his eyes wider. "Well, hello, Sleeping Beauty. They didn't tell us you Ancient types were so frail."

Frail? Blinking away the last bit of grogginess, John straightened in his chair. "I'm not frail."

"Jess, I think he's pouting."

"I think you're right." Rising, Jess pulled out his sidearm. "Let's go, pretty boy. You need to freshen up."

Standing was the last thing on John's mind, but he had no choice. Slowly, he made his way to the restroom, grateful to arrive without incident.

The mirror told him all he needed to know about his health. He looked like crap. Briefly, he wondered if this was the John his father saw each morning. Now he understood why the old man tried to drag him out of the office all the time.

Closing his eyes, John concentrated. Ever since he was a child, John could tell where he was and the time without looking. In fact, much to his brother's dismay, John never wore a watch or needed a map. Right now, he knew he had been missing for at least three hours. Focusing, he tried to establish his location.

Nothing.

Grabbing the edge of the sink, John let the dizziness wash over him. He wasn't on a plane.

He wasn't even on Earth.

oOoOoOo

Colonel Jack O'Neill paced the 'gate room as the last chevron locked. The event horizon shimmered as a pale and worn figure stepped through, making his way down the embarkation ramp. "Welcome back," the colonel said, somewhat concerned.

"What's this all about, Jack?" The other man unclipped his tac vest after handing off his weapon to the nearest person. "I think we found a new clue about Atlantis, and –"

Patting his friend on the shoulder, Jack smiled. "Ease up, Danny-boy. We've got bigger problem than Atlantis right now."

Daniel Jackson huffed. "There's always some sort of trouble, Jack. I don't see why–"

"A Key went missing," the colonel said quietly.

"– I have to rush back… What!" Halting immediately, Daniel's eyes widened behind dirty lenses. "A Key? That means… He can't…"

"Breathe, Daniel. We're late for the briefing, so let's go before someone eats all the donuts."

"There's donuts?"

oOoOo

Halfway down the corridor, Major Sam Carter marched toward her tardy teammates. "Morning, sir. Daniel."

The colonel pulled his hands out of his pockets, keeping them loose at his sides. "Carter. Any word on Teal'c?"

"He and Master Bra'tac got caught in a bit of a skirmish. They should be in the solar system by tomorrow morning." Opening the conference room door, the major took her seat.

"Colonel O'Neill, Doctor Jackson. Thank you for joining us." Major Paul Davis opened his attaché, pulling out a laptop. "Yesterday at 1800 Zulu, John Sheppard was abducted from his office in Virginia."

Hitting a button, the monitor came alive with surveillance footage and photos. A silent explosion from the footage caught everyone's attention; taking over the entire screen. People in black fatigues appeared in flashes, scrambling across the research campus. Less than ten minutes later, the men were gone, leaving behind smoke and chaos.

"They have Asgard tech?" someone asked amidst the gasps.

Jack O'Neill was livid. "Who authorized that stunt? They better not be one of ours."

Frowning, Davis hit another key. Three faces popped up, all former military, all formerly SGC personnel. "These men have been spotted in the area within the past week, likely for recon. The speed in which this happened means they either had inside information, or –"

"No." Sam Carter crossed her arms. "This is way too sloppy for The Trust."

"What do you mean? They seemed pretty precise in their movements." General Hammond said softly.

"Major? If I may?" Carter commandeered the laptop, tapping keys to bring up more screens. "Those three men are definitely working with The Trust, but it's these two I'm worried about."

"That is Liam Grant," Daniel answered, leaning forward. "He's been looking for Atlantis for as long as we have."

"Right," Carter replied, pointing to the second man. "And Colonel Westfield just returned from McMurdo."

Major Davis cleared the screen, pulling up a new one. "The technology used is newer than anything we have." More keystrokes bring another screen. "A security guard got a lucky shot, hitting one man, and this weapon was left at the scene."

"Looks like one of those weapons from PX-336," Carter remarked.

"PX-what?"

"PX-336. I believe Jack referred to it as Planet Mall," Daniel supplied, filing away information. A pattern was forming, and it didn't look good.

"Ah! Planet Mall. You can literally buy anything there." Realization hit the colonel as caught his 2IC's attention.

"On it, sir." Carter opened her own laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard. The 'gate map highlighted many planets across the galaxy. "These are known planets where The Trust has stolen tech; none have the Asgard tech needed for the incident yesterday."

"Which is where we come in," Davis straightened, gesturing toward a silent man in the corner. "This Sergeant Vickers. He was our mole in The Trust until recently."

The man in question raised a bandaged hand. "Lucky shot guy right here. For all intents and purposes, I died in that ambush. And I'd like to keep it that way." Vickers moved forward to stand next Davis. With his good hand, Vickers hit several keys, the next screen showed blurry schematics.

"They built a ship?" General Hammond leaned forward, face pale.

Vickers frowned. "The Trust found a ship on Planet Mall, retrofitted with Asgard and Goa'uld tech. Worst of all, this ship may be either Ori or Ancient in origin." He hit another key, this screen showing another blurry image of a ship, in space. Blending with a debris field.

"How did this happen? How is it we don't know about a ship in space?" Jack stared back at the screen intensely, clenching his hands.

"Seems to me," Carter sighed. "We would've never known, sir."

"It's true," Vickers replied, crossing his arms. "If someone hadn't jumped the gun, kidnapped Sheppard two days sooner than originally planned."

"The sloppy work made a big noise and they had to cut their losses," O'Neill surmised.

Major Davis' phone rang the same time Carter's email pinged; while Davis stepped away, Carter opened her email. "Sir. We have a problem."

"Yes, we do," Davis chimed in.

"Well, spit it out, kids," Jack said, leaning forward, hands clenched on the table.

"I just received an email from one of the scientists sent as support."

"And how is Rodney?" the colonel smirked.

"Gone."

"What?" General Hammond stiffened.

"She's right, sir." Davis pocketed his phone, turning his attention to the room. "It's been confirmed; Rodney McKay was abducted an hour ago."

"The same way Doctor Sheppard was taken," Carter added.

With a sigh, Colonel O'Neill shook his head. "So what you're telling me is that The Trust now has the two people who could possibly find Atlantis?" Glancing around the room, he already knew the answer. "Perfect."

oOoOoOo

TBC

Oys. I guess I gotta type faster so I can get this out of the 5or 6 notebooks where this fic is located.


End file.
